


A Haunting in Hawkins

by she_who_the_river_could_not_hold



Series: Spooky Things (And Other Stranger Stories from Hawkins) [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I'm not going to give it away, Mild Language, but ANGST ANGST ANGST, okay but it really hits heavy with the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 10:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15555645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_who_the_river_could_not_hold/pseuds/she_who_the_river_could_not_hold
Summary: Mike develops a close friendship with the quiet girl who appears in the woods behind his house. It’s odd and wonderful and they grow up together, keeping their friendship to themselves as the years go on. But one day, unexplained events begin to unravel information and Mike realizes that what he thought he knew about El might be entirely wrong.





	A Haunting in Hawkins

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hi hello! I’m very excited to be kicking off a new series. I’ve been wanting to get more into angst, but also play into my favorite aesthetics - spooky, Halloween, and fall. And here’s the first one to kick them all off! And a side note, imagine that this story takes place vaguely in the late nineties. Enjoy!

Mike first met her when he was six years old. Well, “met” is a loose term seeing as how it was more of a general acknowledgment. 

 

Nancy had accidentally thrown the frisbee too far and he had chased after it, crashing through the trees at the end of their property. It was easy enough to duck under and through the limbs, and soon enough he was out in the forest area that stretched out behind his neighborhood. He could see the red frisbee nestled in the dirt at the base of a tree and so he made his way towards it, a triumphant grin on his tiny face.

 

It turned to an expression of surprise though when he stood up from grabbing the frisbee and noticed a girl just ahead of him.

 

She was smaller than him and had messy, short curls with ringlets falling just into her eyes. She looked at him as curiously as he looked at her.

 

He didn’t recognize her, though he imagined there was a chance that she was just in the other first grade class and they hadn’t seen each other before.

 

So remembering what his mother had drilled into him about manners, he lifted his hand up and gave her a small wave and a toothy grin. She was far enough away he wasn’t sure if she had a matching smile, but she did respond with a quick jerk of her hand in the form of a wave before darting away.

 

Okay so maybe that was kind of weird in terms of first time greetings. But he shrugged it off and ran back to Nancy, promptly forgetting about the experience.

 

It wouldn’t be until three years later he’d see her again.

 

* * *

 

Nine-year-old Mike stormed out in to his backyard.

 

He hated having a baby sister.

 

He was sick of everyone making weird faces at her and those dumb sounds. Why not talk to babies normally? Not that he necessarily wanted the attention of all of the adults, it was just silly to have something take up that much attention. 

 

With one last rueful glance towards the house, Mike began to stomp his way down the lawn towards the trees. Forget all of them, he was just going to wander around for a while and enjoy the summer air. It wasn’t like anyone was going to miss him in that house right now.

 

He carefully wedged his notebook under his armpit (maybe he’d stop under a tree to get some story ideas out) and pushed through the row of trees that divided his parents’ property from the open land behind them. They were extra full this time of year and he could feel small scratches on his arms and legs, but it didn’t bother him too much. Plus he could just pretend he was an adventurer, maybe Robin Hood or some type of knight. The trees quickly became vines to a castle he was on his way to, so that he could slay the dragon that had taken over.

 

Caught up in his imagination, he used his notebook as a shield and grabbed a stray stick on the ground to be his sword. Sound effects and all, he took his battle through the forest, brandishing his sword and fighting back the awful fire-breathing beast.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

The voice that interrupted him and brought him back to reality was small and curious, so soft he nearly missed it. But he managed to catch it all the same and he whirled around to find the source.

 

Sitting on the ground just beyond him was a girl, probably right around his age if he had to guess. She had a book resting on her knees and Mike suddenly desperately wants to know what it is. Everyone in his class seems to hate to read right now and would rather just go out to recess. But his grandpa got him _The Hobbit_ for his birthday and so he’d honestly be fine with just reading, especially instead of when they’re lead to the gym for PE class. So it seemed crazy to find someone his age purposefully reading outside of school.

 

“Hi,” he said awkwardly, suddenly aware that he was talking to _a girl_.

 

She’s cute he supposed. He hadn’t quite understood what it meant when classmates like Troy talked about liking girls but the longer he looked at her, the more he guessed that if he had to like one, she wouldn’t be too bad.

 

“Hi,” she echoed back. “What are you doing?”

 

“Oh, I was fighting a dragon.”

 

Her lips quirk into a smile at that and Mike smiles back. But then something in her messy curls that fall to her chin gives him an odd flashback. A memory with a frisbee.

 

“Wait! I know you,” he blurted out.

 

Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion and she simply looked at him silently.

 

“That one time, I lost my frisbee. You just waved,” he hurried to explain the jumbled up memory he has from that day.

 

“You’re taller,” she finally responded with a smile, acknowledging the memory. 

 

Mike grinned. She was quiet, a lot like his friend Will. But he didn’t mind. Sometimes he liked being around quiet people more because they like listening to his stories. Plus he’d never been friends with a girl before and this could be fun!

 

“Do you want to play?” He asked hopefully. “Like tag or something?”

 

“I thought you were playing dragons?”

 

He shrugged. “We can do that too! Troy says it’s something only wastoids do, but I still think it’s fun.”

 

The girl stood up, brushing dirt off of her overalls before walking over, her book resting in her previous spot. She wrinkled her nose at Mike’s comment.

 

“What’s a wastoid? And what’s that gotta do with dragons?”

 

“I don’t know, it’s just dumb stuff he says when he feels like being mean. Okay, well…” Mike’s mind tried to come up with a story as he placed his notebook down. “I’m a knight and there’s a castle that’s been taken over by an evil dragon.”

 

The girl’s eyes widened in awe and she let out a soft _whoa_. 

 

“What do you want to be?” Mike eagerly asked, excited that someone outside of his best friends seemed to be interested in it. “You could be a princess I guess.”

 

He didn’t mean to sound bummed out at the suggestion, really. It was just that Nancy was always a princess and that made it harder to play because they seemed to just sit around a lot. He didn’t know if this girl was like Nancy.

 

She shook her head though at that, seemingly thinking hard.

 

“Can I be a fairy?” Her face brightened up at the idea. “I could do magic and stuff, like move things with my hands! That’d help fight a dragon right?”

 

Mike loves the idea and he’s suddenly very glad that he left the house this afternoon.

 

He began to earnestly describe what’s happening.

 

The two of them break apart as the dragon’s tail smashes down, Mike brandishing his sword towards it while on the other side she lifts a boulder up to throw at its face. It’s a long, hard battle. The sun beats down as they fight, joining forces to eventually defeat the beast. The king is about to reward them with gold when Mike realizes something.

 

“Wait, what’s your name? The king needs to announce your good deed and I don’t know what your name is?”

 

She giggles and brushes some dirt off of her cheek.

 

“I’m El.”

 

* * *

 

Mike is twelve when the boy from his math class goes missing.

 

He hadn’t known him very well, maybe talked with him once in the cafeteria, but it was weird all of the same. Everything about him had been incredibly normal. Which didn’t help how abnormal his disappearance was.

 

He’d just simply disappeared walking home one night and then the next thing Hawkins knew, it was on the front page that he was gone.

 

With the constant buzz of parents encouraging their kids to stay safe and preferably indoors, Mike cautiously makes his way towards the edge of his backyard. His mom didn’t mind that he was playing outside, she felt comfortable about their neighborhood, but she didn’t know that he was going to be going just past the edge of the property line.

 

He just wants to know if El knows, or if maybe she’s not going to be allowed to hang out with him anymore. Maybe her parents don’t want her running around the woods (which he admits is probably not the worst idea). He selfishly hopes that’s not the case though. He really likes hanging out with her. She’s a nice break from his other best friends.

 

But there at the base of their usual tree was El, sitting cross-legged with her curls falling forward and her mouth moving just slightly as she read the words in front of her. It was a dog-eared paperback and Mike felt a thrum in his heart as he recognized his old copy of _The Hobbit._

 

“El! You’re here!” Mike couldn’t help the relief that slipped out in his tone.

 

El cocked her head and looked up at him curiously from her book.

 

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“A kid went missing, a lot of parents have been worried,” he replies sliding down onto the ground to sit next to her.

 

“Missing?” El’s eyebrows pulled together as she squinted at him, fully placing the book down. “Where did he go missing?”

 

Now it was Mike’s turn to be confused.

 

“I dunno. That’s the whole missing part I think.”

 

El shook her head, her hair hitting her cheeks. “Was it by the lab?”

 

“Lab? You mean the weird, old place on the way out of Hawkins?” Mike wracks his brain. “I’m pretty sure it’s closed now. But I bet someone would have checked there.”

 

Falling silent, El rubbed the corner of one of the pages of the book nervously. Feeling suddenly more anxious than before, so thrown off by her questions, Mike found himself drumming his fingers against his jeans.

 

“Why El? Why would you think it’s the lab?”  


He’s pretty sure he’s only seen it once, he and the party had been doing a bike race and went a little too far. The tall fences and towering building had been enough for them to hurry back home. His mom had just told him that it was too far from town and she’d prefer for him to stay closer in rather than exploring abandoned buildings. 

 

But El’s reaction seemed odd.

 

“It’s—it’s nothing. It’s a bad place, that’s all.”

 

She turned her head a bit and seemed determined to not look over at Mike. He felt himself growing more confused at her vagueness but didn’t want to push her. El always told him everything so if she didn’t want to say anything more, he wouldn’t force the issue.

 

They fell back into silence, but it became more comfortable as the minutes went by. Mike had quickly shoved a notebook into his pocket and pulled it out, opening up to where he had last left off writing. El had been helping him plan his second campaign for the party’s Dungeons and Dragons and he was beyond excited.

 

“How do you always know to be here by the way?” Mike found himself asking as he worked. “Like, you’re always here when I am.”

 

El gave a small shrug and the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile. 

 

“I just do. I’ll come down here and I know you’ll be there soon.”

 

“So you’re like a weird guardian angel? Always there?” Mike wasn’t sure where they joke came from and he said it teasingly, but he noticed the odd glint that El got in her eye.

 

“Something like that, or you know, a fairy,” she finally responded and now she had a full on grin on her face.

 

He laughed out loud at that, remembering the time that first time they had hung out together. They’d come a long way from that day but he’d never forget it.

 

* * *

 

Mike began to lose track of the afternoons with El over the next couple years. It wasn’t all the time by any means, he was certainly busy enough with his friends and school. But every time they hung out it was like they’d seen each other every day. He was surprised by how easy it was to talk with her. She loved hearing his stories, whether they’re made up ones or the different shenanigans that he and his friends got up to.

 

He didn’t really mind that she didn’t share a lot about herself. He knew that her favorite food was waffles and that her favorite color was a soft pink that veered on gray. She loved reading to escape and he began to lend her books that she would devour. For someone that loved to read, she didn’t seem to have a lot of books so he did his best to remedy that. He knew that she didn’t mind just sitting and enjoying time with him in silence as he did his homework and he read.

 

But why couldn’t he bring himself to share her with his friends?

 

He supposed that maybe it was something about being the middle child or having the same best friends for so long with the same interests. That he finally got to have a uniquely him experience. Plus even as much as he thought about her, if it occurred to mention her by the time it came up she’d slip from his mind again. 

 

It was okay though, the other guys were still awkward around girls and he didn’t want to put El in a weird spot. 

 

So she continued to be one of his best friends, the girl in the woods.

 

He wouldn’t admit it to himself though either, but he’s also a little afraid that he’s developing a crush on her.

 

It’s nothing serious of course! Duh!

 

But…

 

He does really like the way her smile slowly forms before it takes over her face, lighting her expression up. He really enjoys her seriousness but how she’ll suddenly be very silly and surprise even him with her monotone jokes. Hell, he doesn’t even mind when she catches him on some old, retro soap opera she’s obsessed with.

 

But it’s not a crush.

 

It’s just the feeling of butterflies in his stomach when he walks up and he sees her wave as he walks up to their usual spot.

 

_But it’s not a crush._

 

* * *

 

“HOLY SHIT MIKE.”

 

“Dustin keep your voice down.”

 

_“Holy shit Mike,”_ Dustin repeated, his tone now more of whisper-yell as he glanced around the arcade mischievously. At age fifteen, Dustin was still just as exuberant as he had been for… well his whole life. That didn’t stop the other boys from enjoying it, or sometimes having to get him to chill out when they were in public space. Not that the arcade had a ton of adults hanging out there, but still. There were some little kids hanging around and Will usually tried to get the party to watch how much they swore when around kids.

 

“That’s the best campaign idea you’ve had in years!”  


“Hey!” Mike interjected, only to be interrupted by Lucas before he could defend himself any more.

 

“Dustin’s right, that’s a seriously good idea man. Screw the arcade, let’s get started on it tonight!” He encouraged.

 

“What about that redhead girl you keep glancing at?” Mike responded quickly, still smarting from the comment of _best campaign in years_. 

 

Lucas’ head unconsciously whipped around to spot the girl in question. 

 

“Nah, she’s still really focused. I don’t want to piss her off,” he said almost forlornly, but his excitement returned as he looked back at the boys.

 

“No but really, Mike that idea is amazing. We should absolutely start.”

 

The encouragement was starting to have its effect on Mike though and he found himself shifting his weight back and forth as a grin crept onto his face.

 

“You sure? I can still refine it—”

 

“No!” The rest of the party said in unison, once again bringing stares back to the group.

 

“Really Mike. And I bet my mom wouldn’t mind if we hung out at my place tonight,” piped up Will. “Jonathan’s been so busy he hasn’t been able to come visit so she’s been kind of lonely with just us. Even if she won’t say it.”

 

Lucas slapped Will on the back.

 

“That’s a great idea! If we want we can swing by my place on the way over, my mom just bought some extra notebooks we can use for our new characters.”

 

“Okay okay, I need to call my mom real quick,” Mike said, beginning to already make his way towards the front of the arcade. “Not sure if she wanted some big dinner with the family since Nancy dropped in for the weekend.”

 

“As if Karen will say no, she loves Will!” Dustin retorted jokingly back. “Probably more than you!”

 

Mike grinned and shot Dustin his middle finger before pushing open the door to the outside. The late autumn afternoon was everything he could ask for. Orange and brown leaves skittered against the pavement and as he walked towards the pay phones, the sun warmed the back of his neck just enough to push off the cool breeze. Maybe next weekend the party could go to the corn maze! Or carve pumpkins, they hadn’t done that yet and Holly had been begging him to help. 

 

He briefly wondered if this would finally be the year he’d introduce El to the guys. 

 

It was with the image of him and El getting apple cider buzzing in his head that he began to pull out quarters from his pocket to call his mom. Next to him, two of the arcade employees were on a smoke break. Mike found himself listening to them as he dug into his pocket for the last bit of change. 

 

“Dude you know all of those sirens that just went by? That freaky science lab place just somehow burnt to the ground.”

 

“Anybody get hurt?”

 

“Nah, that place has been empty since the ‘80s. It was caught up in something like human testing or something. No one’s been in it in years.”

 

“I think I remember someone talking about that. Didn’t some girl die during the raid or some fucked up shit like that?”

 

Mike’s pretty certain they keep talking. But his hands are frozen on the pay phone and he can hear the dial tone buzzing. He nearly drops it as he shoves it back with a hard click. He feels like he can’t breathe.

 

Something feels horribly wrong. 

 

Is this what an anxiety attack feels like?

 

Is this what Will means when he briefly describes that sensation of your stomach tightening up and your head beginning to spin? 

 

He hurriedly rubs his palms on his jeans, feeling himself walking away from the arcade before he even realizes he’s decided to. He can hear his name being called from the doorway, no doubt his friends having noticed that he’s not coming back inside. He doesn’t even think about grabbing his bike.

 

He just needs to move.

 

The two college kids watch aimlessly as Mike passes them, unaware of how their conversation has effected him. One of them drops the cigarette on the ground and snuffs it with his shoe. 

 

It felt like Mike had blacked out for the majority of the way back to his neighborhood.

 

_A bad place. A bad place. A bad place._

 

He doesn’t have anything to connect what El said the other year to this. Except it’s a bad place. And something clicks in his head when the guys mentioned a girl dying there. Something he doesn’t want to think about, but if he can just talk to El he’s sure she can tell him what’s going. Tell him why his heart is beginning to hurt so much. 

 

She always makes him feel better and now all he knows is that he needs to find her now.

 

She’ll have the answers.

 

Mike ran as fast he could, his lungs struggling to carry enough oxygen throughout his body as he pushed himself. Closer, closer.

 

_Shit_. 

 

Eventually he could see this neighborhood looming and as he got closer, his house rose up in the back. Ignoring the front door entirely, not even concerned about if his mother could see him or not, he sprinted past the house and into his backyard.

 

Like so many times before he pushed through that row of trees. A property marker and now a hurdle for him. Trees that he had burst out onto so many times before that it was second nature to know which branches to duck under and which roots to launch his gangly legs over. But today instead of his usual excitement as he burst into the open, he felt the dread twisting around his heart and tightening. His stomach was in his throat.

 

“EL!”

 

Her name reverberated throughout the trees, a startled flock of birds taking flight.

 

“EL WHERE ARE YOU?”

 

Mike wasn’t sure he had ever yelled this loud before, almost surprised by the force of it. He spun around desperately.

 

She said she’d always be out here for him.

 

That she’d always know when to come.

 

“El?”

 

This time it’s choked out of his throat with a swallowed sob. The crackle of dying leaves and the ends of autumn were all that answered him. As if to hone in how alone he was, a breeze rustled over him and he shivered. Spinning around in place, his eyes straining to look around him. Inspecting the trees to see if he could see her slight frame emerging from behind him.

 

But she didn’t.

 

Instead the woods were silent around him, leaving him with a heaving chest and small puffs of his breath beginning to appear in the air in front of him. 

 

Resolutely taking one last look around and acknowledging that El definitely wasn’t there, Mike immediately determined that he was just going to have to go find her himself. 

 

_How had he never bothered to ask where she lived?_

 

Hands shoved into his pockets, he began to trudge forward. He had never thought about the fact that he had never really seen her coming over. She was just always there, waiting for him. And now he was forced to try and assume where she came from. She did always seem to come from the East and he found his feet automatically taking him deeper into the woods. He could only hope that he’d stumble upon her before night fell on Hawkins.

 

He nearly stopped at that. 

 

What if she was hurt? 

 

What if she had been coming to meet him and something horrible had happened to her and she couldn’t reach him? And what if she was laying on the ground somewhere, ankle broken and it becomes night with no one to find her?

 

The questions continued to spiral in Mike’s brain, but it helped push him further ahead. The air was cooling at a faster rate and he’s not even sure where he’s walking to. But his feet propel him all the same, his heart telling him that he’s almost there. And when he finally rounds a corner and looks behind a tree, he’s half-convinced that he’s going to see El laying on the ground.

 

Instead he saw what looked like an abandoned cabin.

 

He slowed to a crawl, stumbling over damp leaves as he attempted to catch his breath.

 

It had to be abandoned, at least in the state that it appeared to be in. There wasn’t a car in sight either. It felt both out of place and like it belonged there. And Mike couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his back as he looked at it. He wasn’t sure if he was welcome here.

 

But something kept moving him forward, tugging at him towards the house. 

 

Something was telling him that El was there.

 

So he made his way up to it, determination winning over fear. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest to keep his body heat in, a gust of wind rushing over him and spiraling up leaves around his Converse as he moved forward. 

 

It was pure luck that he managed to step over a nearly-invisible trip wire, his long legs carrying him far enough that he stepped right over it.

 

The steps leading up to the porch seemed steady enough at least. Various tools and boxes littered the flooring and he gingerly stepped around them. The breeze was just enough to make one of the torn pieces of window screening flap against the siding. Mike’s heartbeat picked up in speed and his breath grew more shallow the closer he got to the door.

 

It was miraculously unlocked and he lets out a shaky breath. Not all of it, he’s still holding some of it trapped in his lungs, but the scariest part is over. 

 

He coughs a bit as dust flies around him. Following along with the exterior of the cabin, the interior had been long abandoned as well. Though as Mike’s eyes traced his new surroundings, adjusting to the dimly lit room, he did his best to pick up any other clues.

 

Like how it seemed that whoever had lived here had left in a hurry. 

 

It was obvious that this wasn’t where El lived, but he felt too intrigued to leave. He still couldn’t shake the idea that there were answers here.

 

_Or maybe even right in front of his face_ , he noted as he finally saw the open box in the living room. It was overflowing with documents and newspaper clippings.

 

Bingo.

 

He grabs a handful of them, cursing as one of them slices his pinky. No blood luckily. 

 

At first glance, the documents don’t mean a whole lot. A lot of jargon he doesn’t recognize, official things. Maybe even a birth certificate. He tosses the top of the papers back into the box at his feet. Might as well dig into the headlines first, those feel like they’ll have more to tell him.

 

He sits down on the sagging couch to look closer at the headlines.

 

> **“HAWKINS LAB BLOCKS INQUIRY”**
> 
>  
> 
> **“ALLEGED EXPERIMENTS, ABUSE”**

 

He read furiously, his eyes flying line by line as he absorbed as much as he could. As he finished an article, he would drop it beside him without even looking, too in the zone to pause his reading.

 

Names were beginning to become jumbled up in his mind. 

 

Terry Ives. Martin Brenner. MKUltra. Hand written notes in a scrawl that mention Russian spies. It all seems like a lot and Mike can’t place what all of this is doing here.

 

He just needs a sign of who lived here. He needs another piece of the puzzle.

 

As if to answer his prayers though, the next paper that he pulls out is a letter. Some type of note begging for an interview. It’s signed by someone who’s name looks like it’s Murray Bauman, but Mike is much more interested in the name that the letter is addressed to. 

 

Jim Hopper, Chief of Police.

 

He had a name now.

 

Mike jumped to his feet. He had a name, multiple names now really, and some articles. Surely there was a follow up to all of this. The original articles seemed old, older even than the letter. He could figure this shit all out.

 

That was until it felt like something shifted in the room.

 

The hair on the back of his neck and arms curled up as goosebumps ran down his back. It felt like someone is watching him. 

 

He turns abruptly, but there’s nothing there. 

 

Instead he’s looking further into the cabin and there’s a door to a room. And he swears he sees something shimmer in front of it. He can’t bring himself to move though, his legs having rooted themselves into the old wooden floor. A minute passes and everything is silent save for the occasional creak and groan of the cabin.

 

That’s when he felt it.

 

There’s a sensation of something brushing against his back, a light pressure as if nudging him forward. Followed by something grazing his fingers. The softest of touches and almost entirely too easy to miss. And he would have written it off if it hadn’t been for the faintest feeling of his hand lifting up.

 

As if something, or someone, was trying to point him in a direction.

 

He began to take halting steps towards the door, scuffing against the moth-ball eaten, woven rug on the ground. The wooden planks groan under him.

 

The door swings open easily enough, save for the protesting squeaks from the hinges. As if it’s been a long time since anyone thought to come through it.

 

It’s a bedroom, a small one, but a bedroom nonetheless.

 

There are faded, patterned curtains hanging limply over the windows. Drawn tightly as if to do their best to prevent any light from coming in. They’re covered in a thick coat of dust and Mike’s nose twitches as he steps further in.

 

The quilts on the bed are thrown back, clearly with the idea of being returned to. The pillows have deflated over time, but there’s still the hint of an indent from a head that had rested on it. Scattered on the floor, nearly underneath the bed, was a pile of dusty tissues spotted with blood.It piqued his curiosity but as he moved closer to the bed to investigate, he spotted a teddy bear resting on the bed.

 

Mike isn’t sure why that’s the thing that makes him stop. 

 

Maybe it’s the acknowledgment that this room wasn’t an adult’s bedroom. And as he gingerly picked up the bear, more clues began to stand out about the person who had slept there. The teen sized overalls laying over a wooden chair. And then it’s the collection of books.

 

They seem to all be geared towards a younger demographic just based on the quick skim he did of the titles. But there’s a flash of color on one of the covers. And he’s transported back to years ago when he first saw a young girl sitting at the base of a tree.

 

No.

 

He shook his head and looked again.

 

But the memory is just as vivid as the cover staring back at him from the small, rickety bookshelf.

 

Something inside him clicked.

 

He wasn’t sure about the science of it. Or if there even was _any_ science to it. But as he holds the teddy bear in hand with his clammy grip, it feels like it’s starting to make sense. It’s making sense in a way that he’s suddenly praying is wrong and that his brain has connected the wrong dots.

 

But he doesn’t think he has. Not with all of the evidence in front of him like this.

 

Shoving the articles into his pocket, hearing the fragile paper tear just slightly as it crumpled into a ball, he hurried to make his way back out of the cabin.

 

It felt like he was choking on air as he hurried out into the now chilly, night air. Gravel crunched underfoot and he did his best to begin to run back, his lungs burning with the effort. As if to guide him, the moon was full tonight and illuminated the forest as his eyes adjusted to the low light. Dodging trees and doing his best to not fall flat on his face, he pushed back towards his house. Eventually the line of trees at the end of his backyard loomed in front of him and he shoved his way through them.

 

Running into his house, he barely heard his mom’s faint _“Michael?”_ from the living room. He only had eyes for their computer room and he quickly slammed the door behind him.

 

His leg jerked anxiously up and down while he waited for the computer to turn on, whirring to life as the electricity shot through it. It was certainly never fast but today felt excruciatingly slow. 

 

It doesn’t take long to search the Internet, his eyes flicking down to the newspaper clippings that he had stolen from the cabin. 

 

Similar headlines come up to the ones in his hand. But there are new ones now.

 

Articles about the lab getting shut down. Grittier details about what all had gone down and the journalist who had helped uncover it all.

 

But not before there had been two deaths at the lab.

 

It’s the last article that sucker punches him in the gut. 

 

Because staring at him from the flickering computer screen is middle-aged man, and a face that had seen over the years. With curly hair and a small nose that made him realize what it actually meant to have a cute nose.

 

_El. His El._

 

His eyes are burning now as he stares at the proof of what had been gnawing at him since standing in the bedroom at the cabin. But he forces himself to keep reading. 

 

They had been found in the lab and it could only be explained as a chemical explosion, taking out part of the wall with them. Though the coroner, at the time of the article, hadn’t been able to determine a cause of death. It mentioned how Jim Hopper had previously investigated the lab a year prior during the mysterious disappearance of a young boy, and it was suspected that he returned to take care of perceived loose ends.

 

Mike falters on the next paragraph, over the name Jane Hopper. The adoptive daughter of Jim Hopper who had died beside him. There wasn’t much there to go on, just that she had been homeschooled and they hadn’t been able to successfully reach out to anymore family. 

 

Jane. Her full name was Jane. He can only assume that “El” came from a nickname and the idea of asking her flitted through his mind before reality smacked it away.

 

“She’s gone,” he croaked out, unknowingly saying it out loud.

 

He’s enveloped by a dark sadness and it’s hard to breathe for a moment. 

 

He can still see the little girl asking him what he was doing that one day out in the woods. And he’s overwhelmed by how much an impact she had made on him. Her subtle influences crossing over from the woods into him.

 

He sat up, sucking in air as his brain finally slowed down. And then he felt a tickle in the back of his neck, and a soft _thank you_ reverberated through him.

 

He quickly moved in the chair, causing it to spin. Hoping somehow he’d see her.

 

And if he squinted just hard enough, there was a funny edge to the curtains in front of him. As if there was a hint of static in the air. 

 

It had to be her. He knew deep in his heart that El is in front of him.

 

“You’re free now,” he whispered. 

 

It’s less of a question and more of a statement. While he’s always preferred fantasy to supernatural, he does know enough about ghosts to know that they only stick around while they have unfinished business. Something that still needs attending to. And with the lab burning down today, she had finally been released from the place that had been holding her back. The bringing down of the cement walls had taken her out of limbo and unchained her from Hawkins.

 

He wanted to ask El how she did it though. How she found him, of all people. How she was able to grow up along side him. 

 

But the answer is almost out there in front of him even as the curiosity rises. While she waited to be released, she must have found a way to have the childhood she had never been able to have. To be a little girl again and be out in the open and to have a friend. Someone who cared about you. _And maybe even loved._

 

The words had no sooner left him that he felt the faintest touch against his cheek. 

 

This time it wasn’t her dainty fingers, but instead the slight pressure of lips being pressed down. Instead of breath there was a brush of wind and he feels goosebumps erupt down his spine and a smile creep onto his face.

 

And then he felt alone.

 

It was odd really. He wouldn’t have been able to tell beforehand that he hadn’t been alone. It had felt exactly as it should. But now he could feel the difference. He’ll later on spend all night trying to find ways to describe it in his journal. What it feels like to suddenly be empty, to feel that something has been taken out of you. How the room had suddenly felt very cold, as if a part of its soul had been taken away. 

 

But right now it’s just a pang in his chest and the overwhelming feeling of loss. 

 

He’s startled out of his thoughts though by his mom knocking on the door to the computer room. It’s a cautious knock, the one that she reserves for when she wants to talk to him but is unsure of the emotions he’s currently experiencing. 

 

“Michael, Will called. He’s on the telephone now, he was just wondering if you were still going to go sleep over with him and the other boys tonight. You didn’t mention that when you came in. You’re more than welcome to go,” her voice floated past the door. 

 

“Okay,” Mike called back, almost entirely out of instinct as he gazed at the spot he last saw the shimmer. His voice felt far away.

 

“I’ll… I’ll be out in a minute,” he added on.

 

He could hear his mom’s footsteps slowly walking away, her feels clicking on the floor as she went back to the kitchen where their phone was. 

 

Letting out a long exhale, Mike rubbed at his eyes to remove the last tears still there. A shudder ran through him as he pushed himself to pull himself together. Breathing in, breathing out. He turned around in the chair and slowly closed out of the windows with the articles pulled up. Clearing those away from his mind.

 

Those weren’t going to be his last memories of her. 

 

Instead he remembered the days in the woods where the sun made the ends of her curls glow. Where she would wrinkle her nose when she was confused at a weird fantasy concept he was trying to explain. And how they had been neighbors of a more supernatural kind, even if he hadn’t known it all of those years. Neighbors and friends through the veil of life and death.

 

Minutes later when he’s made his way back up to room to pack for Will’s, he feels the stain of the tears on his cheek. But he also feels his mind beginning to whirl again. 

 

He’s grabbing his Dungeons and Dragons binder from his desk when his eyes land on it. The dog-eared copy of _The Hobbit_. The one that he had lent El. 

 

Could you lend things to ghosts?

 

Had he really given it to her or had it been there all along?

 

But there’s something different about it that made him pause. His long fingers slid it out from in between other books, and indeed, there’s something just barely different. A pale pink ribbon has been gently placed between two pages. It matches the pinks that he had seen in the cabin and his heart tugs again at his chest, threatening to bloom out of his ribcage.

 

But he swallows the feeling deep inside him and opens the book.

 

The ribbon flutters to the desk and he skims the pages, looking for the caption that he should be looking for. If he’s not going crazy that is and if there’s actually a passage.

 

And indeed there is.

 

In a shaky line made from a dull pencil, a single quote was underlined. 

 

_“Where there's life there's hope.”_


End file.
